


The Minister and I

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione enters Ministry employment to spy on the new Minister for Magic. <b>Warning:</b> Minor character death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Even though Voldemort was gone, the Order of the Phoenix remained organized. There were pockets of the Dark Lord’s supporters hiding throughout Britain and the Order felt it was their responsibility to support the Ministry.

 

Hermione Granger was at the Burrow, discussing the sudden resignation of Kingsley Shaklebolt and emergency election that followed with the remnants of the Order. Arthur and Elphias were positioned at the Ministry, hoping to get the results back to the Order before the ‘ _Daily Prophet_.’

 

It seemed that the mistrusted media got the news first. An owl bearing the Special Edition soared through the kitchen window. Molly’s hands were steady as she untied the package. The witches and wizards huddled in the Weasley kitchen gave a collective gasp when they read the headline: ‘Lucius Malfoy wins!’

 

Hermione moved outside of the fevered outrage. After Voldemort’s defeat, Ron had put a distance between them with no explanation. Hermione was quite hurt but she made no effort to bridge the gap. She wasn’t sure if he needed time to deal with his grief or if he had changed his mind; whatever the case, Hermione felt that Ron should take the first step. As days went by and he didn’t, Hermione’s hurt deepened and she drew away from groups that included him. Unfortunately, they shared friends and membership in the Order.

 

Hermione listened to the garbled conversation, unable to make sense of it. Finally, she stood up and emphatically cleared her throat.

 

“Why don’t I take a position at the Ministry and keep an eye on the new Minister?”

 

Silence was the reply but only for a moment. Then, hesitant agreement muttered from the group.

 

**Monday**

 

The last thing Hermione expected when she stepped into the Employment Department at the Ministry of Magic was to be hastily brought to an interview with none other than the new Minister himself.

 

Hermione stood tall, knuckles white on her purse. The Minister’s office was full of people. Harried wizards and witches stood holding varying numbers of scrolls. When Lucius Malfoy looked up at Hermione and recognition flickered in his eyes, she experienced a momentary flash of fear.

 

“I need competency here,” he said, appearing a bit bewildered. “When can you start?”

 

“I beg your pardon, Minister. But start what?” Hermione asked politely.

 

“Executive Assistant – is that not what you applied for?” he demanded, sounding frustrated. Perhaps he was sent new assistants often.

 

“Yes, I applied for Executive Assistant,” she answered quickly. Hermione had not expected to be working so closely with Lucius. There would not be a better opportunity. “I may start as soon as tomorrow.”

 

“The benefits are excellent, including a flat at the Ministry Apartments in Diagon Alley. See the Employment Department and I’ll see you first thing tomorrow, Ms. Granger.”

 

Excused, Hermione closed the door on her way out.

 

~*~

 

The Ministry Apartments were respectable enough but the flat let to Hermione was a small, dark, cave of a home. A few flicks of her wand and she had created quite a haven. Hermione attempted to contact the Burrow by the Floo Network but it appeared that no one was home. She tried Grimmauld Place next and Ginny happily took her message for the Order. _She was in._

 

**Tuesday**

 

Artificial sunlight streamed through the faux window pane onto Hermione’s desk. She tested the chair and cast a few spells, transfiguring lamps and furnishings to her liking. She was sorting through various correspondence, contracts and other scrolls when she heard voices from Lucius’ office. Hermione listened curiously; she hadn’t known he was in yet.

 

The door to Lucius’ office swung open and out strolled Draco.

 

“Granger!” he exclaimed, lip curled.

 

“That’s Ms. Granger, Malfoy,” she corrected.

 

“Father, you didn’t tell me it was _Granger_ ,” he sneered.

 

“Get back in here and close that door,” Lucius snapped. Hermione watched Draco’s face fall before he rejoined Lucius in the office, closing the door behind him.

 

Curious, Hermione moved quickly to pull an Extendable Ear out of her pocket and send it into Lucius’ office.

 

“I’m sure the Order was as shocked as I was that I got elected but _she_ will be reliable and deal fairly with me,” Lucius explained.

 

“She’s a bloody spy!” Draco exclaimed.

 

A silencing spell must have been cast because Hermione heard nothing else. She was distracted as she went back to sorting scrolls. Lucius knew her for a spy and hired her regardless. He thought she would be fair to him? What did that mean?

 

When the door burst open and Draco stomped out, she instinctively held down her sorted piles with her arms, as if expecting Draco’s temper to blow them right off her desk. He scowled at her on his way out but then hid a laugh when he saw what she was doing.

 

“Ms. Granger, come in here,” Lucius requested.

 

Twenty minutes later, Hermione emerged with a to-do list as long as her arm. Head spinning only a little, she summoned a few owls and began sending out correspondence and scheduling appointments. Amidst her busy day, Hermione noticed that Lucius toiled just as steadily as she. His personal house-elves delivered his meals and he only left for short periods. Otherwise, the new Minister worked hard.

 

Hermione was called to sit-in on a meeting between the Minister, the Head of the Department of Mysteries and Oliver Wood, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. She took notes and learned that both departments wanted to lay claim to a bit of land equipped with Muggle-repellant charms. Oliver had a full business proposal to build a new Quidditch Pitch. The Department of Mysteries provided nothing and remained elusive on their plans for the land.

 

“Without knowledge of your intentions, I cannot and will not endorse your request,” Lucius reasoned. Hermione noticed that he appeared near to temper.

The Head Unspeakable (Hermione had not yet caught his name) stood and left in a huff.

 

“That’s settled,” the Minister announced. He shook Oliver’s hand and Oliver winked at Hermione as he left.

 

“Tourism is a better investment,” Lucius muttered, pouring himself a scotch. “Bloody Department of Mysteries. You never know what they’re up to…”

 

Hermione silently agreed.

 

**Wednesday**

 

When it became obvious that the Minister was running late, Hermione stepped into the corridor to ask around. She discovered that the Wizengamot met on Wednesday mornings and Lucius was currently making spot-appointments to fill vacancies. She arrived in the dungeons in time to hear Harry Potter’s name amongst those appointed and listen to the Minister’s pitch for a Blanket Pardon on all activities conducted during the war. The reaction from the Wizengamot was mixed.

 

The Minister beckoned Hermione to accompany him. He dictated another list of witches and wizards that he wanted to meet with throughout the rest of the week as they made their way back to his office.

                                                                        

“You want to meet with Harry Potter?” Hermione asked in surprise, doing her best to keep her voice neutral. Lucius shot her a glance as they settled into his private lift.

 

“No, I don’t need his vote, Ms. Granger.” Lucius grasped a railing as the lift lurched upwards. “The boy would be a powerful ally.”

 

Hermione thought it telling that Lucius referred to Harry as “the boy.” He wouldn’t get far with Harry if he continued to refer to him in that way. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if Lucius’ choice in hiring her wasn’t so much political as social.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thursday**

Hermione arrived at work on Thursday to find Lucius already deep in ink. He was in a chair before the fireplace and the table beside him was piled high with scrolls and books.

“Ms. Granger, come in here,” he requested.

Hermione set her things on her desk and walked into the Minister’s office. It was dark with the exception of the fireplace.

“Can you explain to me why it is that I want to bend you over my desk and fuck you?”

Hermione went cold and then hot. What? She was so stunned she couldn’t utter a word. Lucius set aside his quill and scroll.

“Come here.”

Hermione took a step into his office. “Closer,” he ordered.

Hermione stood before him, her robes brushing the tops of his shoes.

“Unbutton your robes.”

Hermione complied with steady hands and an increasing heart rate. She wore a simple teddy and knickers underneath. As Lucius’ gaze moved over her, her nipples peaked and the apex of her thighs went hot. Lucius reached out and drew her closer still, his fingers pinching the fabric of her robes. His hands on her hips pulled her down to sit astride him. His pale eyes bore into her very soul.

Hermione wanted to purr. She could feel him, hot and turgid beneath her. She rocked her hips against him and was gratified to see him tip his head back and groan and feel his hands tighten on her waist. Hermione leaned close to his face and waited until he opened his stunning eyes before kissing him. The kiss changed the momentum of everything. They moved together like one entity. His entire body seemed intent on climbing inside of her and hers responded by melting on him. She felt near to climax even though Lucius was still fully clothed.

Hermione began pulling at his robes, yanking them open and then she woke up.

**The Real Thursday**

Hermione needed to be distracted. Her erotic dream led her to the fact that she found Lucius Malfoy attractive. He was not a kind man. He was certainly not the sort she typically fancied.

 

The day was, thankfully, full of appointments. Hermione was happy to sit at her desk and watch as some new Wizengamot appointees left, stomping, and others, shaking Lucius’ hand. Harry’s appointment time came and went. He had jilted the Minister for Magic. Neither Hermione nor Lucius commented on it.

 

The day’s post arrived and it sat on Hermione’s desk for about an hour before she got to sorting it. A small package caught her attention. It was unmarked so must have been hand-delivered. Hermione cast a couple of revealing spells to no avail. It made no sound and had no smell. With a mental giggle at herself for being so suspicious of the little box, she picked up her letter opener.

 

The next think Hermione knew, she was lying on the floor, Lucius kneeling beside her.

 

“Am I dreaming?” she muttered.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“What happened?” she asked, struggling to remember something other than her dream. Lucius helped her sit up and held her steady as her head swam.

 

“Cursed box,” he growled.

 

“Cursed box,” Hermione repeated. “Damn. I should have recognized that.” She climbed to her feet, waving away the Minister’s attempt to assist her. She was no faint-of-heart damsel in distress.

 

“My apologies, Minister. It will not happen again,” she said. There were scorch marks on her desk and the remnants of the day’s post lay scattered across the office. “I’ll clean this up,” she added.

 

For the rest of the day, Hermione felt as though Lucius was watching her. She never caught him at it but she could not shake the feeling that he was keeping an eye on her. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

 

Hermione was pleasantly surprised to talk to Harry after work that night through the Floo network.

 

“Hermione, how are you?”

 

“Well, thanks. You missed your appointment today,” she teased.

 

“That’s why I called, actually. Malfoy’s made the worst mistake appointing me. I will never be in his pocket.”

 

“I don’t think he wants you in his pocket, Harry. He’s meeting with all of the new appointees about his Blanket Pardon proposal,” Hermione reasoned, suddenly experiencing mixed feelings about her position.

 

“Ah, yes. The Blanket Pardon; the biggest trick Malfoy will play on the wizarding world, I suspect.”

 

“It will clear many that might otherwise be falsely convicted, Harry,” Hermione pointed-out.

 

“Someone’s been listening to too much propaganda,” Harry replied.

 

Shocked, Hermione sat back from the Floo. “All I’m saying is that I don’t think it does you any harm to meet with him.”

 

Harry laughed. “I know you, Hermione. You’ve checked your flat for spells – you don’t have to flatter Lucius Malfoy, he can’t hear you.”

 

Hermione’s temper won-out. She was so outraged that she cut the Floo connection. How dare Harry insinuate that she was taking Lucius’ side! Well, perhaps he hadn’t precisely insinuated that but she didn’t appreciate his laughter at her expense.

 

Hermione reflected upon her situation long into the night, sipping hot tea and nibbling on biscuits. Finally, she recalled the bits of conversation she’d heard between Lucius and Draco. Lucius had been right from the start; she _was_ being fair to him.

 

**Friday**

 

Between _another_ naughty dream about her boss and the disturbing conversation with Harry, Hermione was silent and surly throughout the work day. Regardless, she didn’t think anyone would notice; she wasn’t usually chatty.

 

“Something troubling you, Ms. Granger?”

 

It was tea time. Lucius closed his office for fifteen minutes in order to take a brief repast at midday. He appeared quite relaxed, sipping tea from a tiny cup in his doorway.

 

“Nothing work related,” Hermione replied and pointedly turned her attention back to work. She was unprepared to discuss anything outside of the office with the wizard. Not to mention she was suspicious that Lucius might be a Legilimens.

 

Five minutes later, Lucius’ house-elf set a steaming cup and plate of biscuits on her desk and Disapparated without a word. Hermione did not allow herself to dwell on the small kindness.

 

When Lucius closed his office early, Hermione sensed that he was seeking to make a connection with her. He waited until she had completed a letter to wish her a pleasant weekend. Hermione replied with the same, watching the Minister. Lucius was looking at her inkpot and appeared to be lost in thought.

 

“You’ve proven to be a valuable asset,” he began. “Not that I doubted your worth, you understand,” he hurried to add.

 

Hermione felt her cheeks go warm. She met the man’s pale gaze and her face grew hotter. “I, er, thank you.”

 

“About the cursed box in yesterday’s post-”

 

“Won’t happen again. Rookie mistake,” Hermione interrupted.

 

“I expect more of the like. My politics are not popular,” Lucius stated carefully.

 

Hermione almost grinned. Right now, no one’s politics were popular.

 

“I hope that the pressure of this office does not send you packing,” he continued.

 

Ah, so that was it. He thought she might quit.

 

“I actually quite enjoy the challenge here and intend to brush-up on my curse-checking spells. Have a nice weekend, Minister.”

 

Lucius looked pleased as he nodded and left.

 

Hermione spent a little time answering correspondence and a little time analyzing Lucius’ conversation with her. It didn’t add up. He knew she was a spy; she was unlikely to leave her job voluntarily. Was there some reason he had addressed the danger of her position? Perhaps he knew more than he revealed about the curse.

 

After work, Hermione Apparated to the Burrow. She was missing a box of books and figured she must have left it behind by accident. Hermione got a shock to find a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix taking place. She got an even bigger shock to be barred from the meeting in the kitchen by a grim Ginny. A glance at the other faces in the room, including Harry and Ron, revealed them to be stony.

 

“What is this?” Hermione demanded, pushing past the smaller witch, into the room.

 

Two wands were drawn and Hermione responded in kind.

 

“They say you’ve been compromised,” Ginny hissed, pulling Hermione towards the door. Hermione allowed it, uncertain she could extricate herself if she had to duel every person in the Order.

 

Hermione blinked as she stumbled into the cool night. “You’ve got to be joking.”

 

“You’re too close to him. Harry said you actually defended him.”

 

“Not precisely,” Hermione murmured, still reeling that she was considered untrustworthy. Of all people! She was Muggle-born! She’d been tortured in the man’s home! How in the hell had she suddenly been branded as a traitor? Her wand hand trembled as she lifted it.

 

“ _Sonorus_!” Hermione cast on herself. She hoped that even the Lovegoods would hear her. Ginny covered her ears and scuttled away.

 

“How dare you! I went in for the good of witches and wizards. I went in for Britain! And this is how I’m repaid? With suspicion and doubt? I’ll give you a bloody report. So far, from what I’ve seen, Lucius Malfoy is doing a damned fine job.”

 

The faces disappeared from the windows except for Harry’s. He shook his head at her and Hermione shook her head right back.

 

“ _Quietus_!” she cast before Disapparating for home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Second Monday**

 

Hermione was oddly content to be back at work. She was disgusted with the suspicion of the Order and every time she remembered the looks of hate on once-friendly faces, it rather broke her heart. No matter the outcome, she was finished with the organization. Hermione thought she would maintain her position assisting the Minister until she decided what to do with herself. The pay was awful but at least she had a roof over her head.

 

Hermione’s troubles evaporated when the main office door banged open and a cacophony met her ears. Neville Longbottom, now a respected Auror, appeared to be wrestling Lucius’ house-elf.

 

“Must see Master Lucius,” the house-elf wailed, and bit Neville’s hand.

 

Neville swore as Hermione stood. “Well, let him go!”

 

“It’s not that simple, Hermione,” Neville said gravely, rubbing his hurt hand. Hermione noted Neville’s foreboding expression and felt her heart drop into her stomach. Something awful had happened.

 

The house-elf tore towards Lucius’ door and threw itself at the wizard’s feet as he opened it.

 

“Batty?” Lucius prompted, eyes wide with concern.

 

“Missus won’t wake up. She was brewing potions in the dungeon and forbade me to tell, Master,” Batty choked out between sobs.

 

Hermione felt as though her heart had stopped when Lucius met her gaze. He was full of guilt.

 

“Get Draco,” he whispered, voice tight.

 

Hermione could practically feel his pain. She nodded and took action. Neville went narrow-eyed as she drew her wand.

 

“Out,” she ordered, gesturing with her wand. “And tell no one.” She escorted him into the corridor and pulled the door closed behind her.

 

“Easy, Hermione. I’m on your side,” Neville pointedly looked at her wand.

 

“Sorry, Neville. Something awful has happened. I don’t want a media circus. Will you contact St. Mungo’s? I’ve got to find Draco.”

 

“Of course, Hermione. But watch out for yourself. Your speech at the Burrow last week is common knowledge.”

 

Hermione huffed but, frankly, she was glad. She nodded. “Right, thanks.”

 

Neville nodded, squeezed her arm and took off running. Hermione burst into the next office. Its occupants were away and she hurriedly tossed Floo powder into the fireplace.

 

“Pansy Parkinson’s flat,” she ordered, surprised to hear her voice shake.

 

Pansy began to say something sassy but Draco appeared and pushed her aside when he saw Hermione’s worried expression.

 

“What’s happened?”

 

“Come quick. It’s your mother,” Hermione said. She fell back as Draco simply stepped through the connection. She followed his purposeful stride.

 

Hermione and Draco found Lucius tossing back a drink while the house-elf cried silently into its hands.

 

“Father?” Draco asked. Batty looked up and threw itself at Draco, wrapping its tiny arms around his legs.

 

Hermione took charge of the distraught house-elf and untangled it from Draco. She handled it out of Lucius’ office and closed the door.

 

“She’s done it,” Hermione heard Lucius say. She cast a silencing charm so that no one would hear anything else. The house-elf twisted out of her grip and pressed itself against the doors. Hermione finally gave-in to her shock and her knees went out. She was perched on her desk, focused on simply breathing, when Neville returned. The house-elf was curled up on the floor, hugging itself.

 

“Narcissa Malfoy is dead,” Neville said. “St. Mungo’s has her body.”

 

Dazed, Hermione spelled a mass-memo to all upcoming appointments for the week to contact her to reschedule. Neville moved close to her.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Of course,” she answered.

 

“You don’t look well,” Neville explained. He squeezed her shoulder.

 

“I empathize,” she said.

 

“Shall I tell them?” he offered.

 

“I’ll go with you,” she said, numbly.

 

The house-elf remained in a ball as Hermione led Neville into Lucius’ office.

 

“I’ve sent Draco to the Manor,” Lucius announced. He was slouched in his chair, collar loosened, sipping more alcohol.

 

“St. Mungo’s has already been there,” Neville reported.

 

“Thank you, please leave us,” Lucius gestured with his glass.

 

Hermione nodded to Neville that she was fine.

 

“I’ve rescheduled your appointments for the week. Go home, Minister.”

 

“That was presumptuous,” Lucius replied bitterly.

 

“I felt you would like the time to grieve,” Hermione answered haltingly.

 

“You assume that I will grieve,” he muttered, sipping deeply.

 

Hermione blinked. Was he saying that he would not miss his wife? Was he drunk already? She scooped up the empty bottle from Lucius’ desk and he lifted a brow at her.

 

“Of course, I will grieve. I am failing at teasing you. I am wholly unsuccessful at light-heartedness.” Lucius maneuvered to his feet and leaned heavily on his desk. Hermione watched, concerned that she’d end up taking him home herself. He was quite drunk.

 

“But first, I wish you to know that Narcissa was jealous of you.”

 

“What?” Hermione asked, nearly dropping the bottle.

 

“I made the mistake of telling her how extraordinary you are,” Lucius slurred summoning a full bottle. “We were in the process of a divorce. She was in a rage this morning but she locked herself away. I expected her to move out, not take her life.” Hermione gaped as the wizard poured himself another drink. “I tell you this because she is a vindictive woman and may have spread a rumor or left some curse intended for you.”

 

Finally, Hermione found her voice. Her mouth was dry when she replied, “I see.”

 

Her pride had swelled to hear Lucius call her extraordinary but she could not simplify her whirling emotions. She knew she should have felt guilty to fixate on his compliment when his wife had just taken her life but it wasn’t her fault. No matter how desperate her situation, Narcissa had chosen to take her own life.

 

Lucius moved around his desk and finished his drink. “Thank you for everything,” he said. Before Hermione knew what was happening, Lucius wrapped her in an awkward hug and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. And then he was gone.

 

The Minister’s eleven o’clock appointment found Hermione sitting motionless at her desk, lost in thought.

 

~*~

 

When someone knocked on her door that night, too late for proper visitors, Hermione had half a hope that it would be Lucius. She had the awful feeling that she was developing feelings for the wizard. It was as unexpected as it was wonderful.

 

It was Draco, of all people, at her door. She gestured for him to come in.

 

“I don’t know what to say, Draco,” she said, watching him walk around her tiny living room.

 

“Forget it. Just say you’ll come to the services tomorrow,” he said. He looked quite tall standing in the midst of her tiny home. His eyes were dry but red-rimmed.

 

“Is that appropriate?”

 

“Appropriate? When the hell do you care about appropriate? Even I heard about what you said to the Order of the Phoenix.”

 

Hermione did not regret her actions against the Order but she wondered who had blabbed. “Why?” she countered.

 

“He hasn’t stopped drinking. He said he depends on you. Just be there. I’ll pay you-”

 

“You don’t have to _pay_ me,” Hermione cut him off, disgusted. “I’ll come.”

 

Draco moved for the door. He had his answer and made every appearance of wanting to get out of her home. “Good,” he replied.

 

~*~

 

Hermione must have been distracted because as she sorted through the day’s post, she fell for a curse for the second time. Even as she felt magic envelop her mind, Hermione swore. She fell into a dream-like state. The world around her took on a rosy hue and seemed to be moving in slow motion. Hermione was unable to interact with any of it but she sensed things happening around her. She wondered if she was sleeping when Lucius burst through the door to her flat. It was a delicious feeling to be picked up and held by his arms.

 

A bout of awareness came to Hermione and she seemed to be in a bed. She could feel spells prodding at her, making her uncomfortable. Not sensing familiar faces, Hermione retreated further into her dreams where she could conjure any face she liked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Second Thursday**

The sensation of being kissed was a singularly wonderful experience. Hermione felt lips on hers and moved to embrace the wizard. He smelled like Lucius. She lifted her hands and fully awoke as he slipped away as if startled.

 

Hermione blinked in the darkness. A low alarm sounded and she jumped, utterly at a loss. Light flooded her senses and she covered her eyes as several people surrounded her.

 

“Ms. Granger? Are you awake?”

 

“Yes,” she answered grumpily. “It’s quite bright,” she complained.

 

“What happened to Neville?” “Has he been spelled?” asked unfamiliar voices.

 

There were more voices than Hermione could pick out. She simply left her eyes covered and waited-out the bustling of white-robes. Diagnostic spells were cast all over her and then someone dimmed the lights.

 

“Do you know where you are?” asked a wizard that Hermione took to be a Healer.

 

“Hospital,” she muttered, irritated. “I need to get up.”

 

“Is she okay? What’s happened?”

 

“Neville,” Hermione was relieved to recognize someone. There were at least three strangers’ faces bobbing around her. “I want to get up. What’s going on?”

 

Neville understood. He asked the Healers to step out and held out his arms, rather herding them out.

 

With the room quiet, Hermione felt much better. She sat up and looked around, squinting in even the dim light.

 

“What happened to me? I feel awful – like I’ve been sleeping for years.”

 

Neville used his wand to dim the lights further. “It’s only been days.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“You were cursed,” Neville shrugged. “You wouldn’t believe the scandal that ensued when the Minister brought you to St. Mungo’s. The Order was rabid. Three of them got sent to Azkaban, if you can believe it.”

 

Hermione held up a hand. “I don’t even want to know,” she groaned.

 

“Well, you should hear it from me before you someone catches you off your guard. They’re saying you had an affair with Lucius Malfoy, Hermione. And that you’re the reason Narcissa killed herself.”

 

“The Order is saying that?”

 

“They’re the origin of the rumor,” Neville answered darkly.

 

“Lucius brought me here?” Hermione confirmed.

 

“Yes, the night of Narcissa’s services. He claimed that you were supposed to attend and when he was unable to reach you, entered your flat by force.”

 

A memory stirred in Hermione’s mind. She thought she recalled something along those lines.

 

“I’ve got to ask, Hermione. Is it true?”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you having an affair with him?”

 

“No!” she snapped. “He’s married!” Neville lifted a brow at her. “Well, he _was_ married,” she corrected herself. She made a face at him. “I was cursed to sleep? How did I awake?”

 

“I’ve no idea what woke you up. I’ve been here every night, keeping watch and tonight, someone spelled me to sleep. Someone that wants to remain unknown woke you.”

 

Hermione looked down at her bare feet and shivered. Why were hospitals always so cold? “Get me out of here.”

 

“Healers like their tests,” Neville teased.

 

“Bugger their tests. I’ve been sleeping for three days! My body feels like I need to spend the next twenty-four hours exercising.”

 

“I’m sure the Minister will pull some strings for you,” Neville mused. He ducked the pillow Hermione chucked at him.

 

**Second Friday**

 

Hermione settled behind her desk as if she’d never been gone except for the fact that it was overflowing with unreturned messages and scrolls. An aging witch teetered in and stopped dead at the sight of Hermione.

 

“You are?” Hermione asked coolly.

 

“The temporary-”

 

“Your services will no longer be required,” Hermione interrupted. She dove into sorting through the mess on her desk.

 

When Lucius’ door opened, her heart skipped but it was Draco that emerged. He looked at her and stepped out, quickly closing the door behind him.

 

“I thought you would be here today,” he said with a smirk.

 

“Good morning,” Hermione replied slowly, unwilling to be lured into whatever game Draco was playing.

 

He drew closer, narrowing his eyes. “It was him, didn’t you guess?”

 

“What?” Hermione asked, all pretenses dropped in the face of Draco’s earnestness.

 

“You’re both nutters,” he muttered.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Hermione retorted.

 

Draco put a finger to his lips and shushed her, making Hermione even more perplexed. He moved to her side and sat on the desk, sending a wave of parchment to fall off the other end but neither of them paid it mind.

 

“The curse was courtesy of my mother,” Draco said slowly, tone very low. Hermione nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. She had guessed as much.

 

“My father found you when you didn’t show up at her funeral.” Hermione nodded again. She knew this, as well.

 

“The curse was reversed by love’s kiss,” he explained. Hermione’s brows drew together. Now, she was lost.

 

“It took a couple of days to work it out and I had to knock out Longbottom to sneak my father into your room. He woke you up.”

 

Hermione blinked. Oh!

 

“My old man seems to have fallen in love with you,” Draco said, looking skeptical. He shrugged. “Are you horrified? That’s his word. He thinks you’ll be horrified.”

 

Hermione shook her head. Draco shrugged again. “Well, I leave it in your hands.”

 

For awhile, Hermione blindly sorted through paperwork but then she realized she’d have to redo it all because she hadn’t been paying attention properly. With a frustrated sigh, she pushed all of the parchment onto the floor.

 

“Welcome back, Ms. Granger.”

 

Hermione had not heard Lucius’ door open. “Minister,” she replied, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

 

“Do you feel well enough to be here?”

 

Lucius glanced at the mess she’d just created. Hermione’s face went hot. “Yes. And you?” Last she’d heard from Draco, Lucius had been drinking nonstop.

 

“I am quite well, thank you,” he replied. He certainly appeared to be. Hermione met his pale gaze, wondering again if he was a Legilimens. He glanced at the tea growing cold in his hand.

 

“You were missed,” he offered and disappeared back into his office.

 

Hermione wanted to reply ‘so were you,’ but something held her back. Was it that they worked together? It didn’t feel right to flirt while at work.

 

The rest of the day passed as if nothing had changed except that Hermione felt electrically aware of Lucius every moment they spent in the same room. By the time the end of the day rolled around, Hermione had made up her mind. She simply could not continue on in this way.

 

Hermione tidied her desk and then stepped into Lucius’ office. He appeared to be rather idle. He was flipping through a box of last year’s Wizengamot files.

 

“Pardon me, Minister,” Hermione broached.

 

“Leaving for the day?” Lucius asked, distracted.

 

Hermione moved closer, much as Draco had earlier, around the desk to stand beside him. Lucius frowned but did not prevent her.

 

“I must give you my resignation,” she said, gratified to see Lucius’ immediate distress. _He had no idea._

 

“Resign? Why? Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

 

Hermione grinned and shook her head. “I have a conflict of interests.”

 

Lucius’ frown became a scowl. “The Order?” he growled.

 

“No,” Hermione answered.

 

“Are you mocking me?” Lucius asked darkly, noting Hermione’s amusement.

 

“Not in the least,” she replied. Hermione could stand it no longer. She slid between Lucius and his desk, leaned over and kissed him.

 

For a moment, Hermione held her lips against his with no reaction but then his arms wrapped around her and drew her onto his lap. He worked her mouth until she was breathless.

 

“In that case, I accept your resignation,” Lucius purred.

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of those rare, words fall like water, stories. I remember writing it furiously and loving every moment. That is a rare and exciting occurrence for authors.  
> Originally published: Jan 2, 2013


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